


THE LEGEND NEVER DIES

by Nimitztlazohtla



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games), Dark Souls I, Dark Souls II, Dark Souls III
Genre: Canon-Compliant, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Memes, One Shot, Story within a Story, Storytelling, Unreliable Narrator, Worldbuilding, convoluted, mentions of various characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:34:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22911814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nimitztlazohtla/pseuds/Nimitztlazohtla
Summary: Light and dark, wax and wane—legends are about the only things that withstand it all. Everyone seems to have their own ideas of how to interpret them, however...
Comments: 11
Kudos: 11





	THE LEGEND NEVER DIES

_In the land forsook by God and Man and amongst the Wood subsumed by Dark, one man only withstood. With righteous strength and a blade ablaze, one man only would harness and master the chaotic magicks of the world and bring back light to his dying kingdom. His armor was gold as sunlight and his tabard a pure, godly white. His rings were gifts from a great Dragon Slayer and the goddess of his affections. His shield was of woven grass and filled his heart with boundless strength. And his mask? Agape in an expression of triumph over his foes. Yea, his very footsteps shook the earth beneath—_

“Mama, I thought he wasn’t actually a giant.”

“Yeah! Mother, none of this makes sense anyway. Is he a giant or a father of giants?”

“Hush, children, it’s only an expression. This is how my mother taught it to me.”

_—for his feet walked the path of an unstoppable warrior, for he walked these very dead lands for his love._

“Fina, mama?”

“Hmm. Well he does wear her ring. Yes, I do believe that he is looking for his true love, the beautiful goddess Fina."

"Mother! Fina would never love a knight like him."

"Don't put words in the mouths of the gods, little Lautrec."

* * *

_Yea in his time the people of all the lands knew not to stand in the way of the Father of Giants, whose mission was guided by divine light. But that did not stop some from trying, those who would seek to wreak evil across the world, those looking to claim the blessing of the love goddess Nehma for themselves, or even just those looking to steal some spare coin. Those brave or foolish enough to resist him were cursed by the utterance of a miracle, and hewn in twain…_

"Oh, Alva, do not scare the poor girl."

"And yet you teach her hexes and dark magic, love? Forgive me, but where is the line drawn?"

"...Father, is he really so cruel as to kill people like that?"

"Is he really so—? Oh! Hah hah, no."

_His deeds were dubious and his name carried with it an air of fear and reverence, so much so that it has been lost to time. But in fact his heart was golden, his morals strict and reasonable, and it is said that, beneath his strange mask, you will find a most fatherly smile…_

* * *

_He was the kind of warrior to laugh at his enemies as they fell, to stand high above them and relish their screams and pleas of mercy, opening his arms wide in the mocking embrace of the goddess whose love they will never experience, only to end them with one final crushing swing of his zweihänder. Then he would suck out their souls from their fresh corpses. But if they were cursed with Undeath, well, he doesn't like his victims returning to life. So he sucks out their very humanity, slowly, agonizingly—_

"Aslatiel—"

_—and makes their very being a part of himself, like a Darkwraith—_

"Aslatiel! Gods, some of the children are crying now. What if the grandmaster finds out about this?"

"Pff. Worry not, Luca. None of these young warriors will ever have to worry about the Father ever catching them with his mighty sword—"

_"Brother!"_

"—IF EVER THEY LEARN TO PROPERLY DODGE ROLL!"

* * *

_But his journey was squandered, as on the steps to a great coliseum — not within it, but on its steps — the Legend was defeated. His rings, purloined. His humanity, lost in the world. For you see, he too was an undead, wearing the armor of gods, but all too vincible nonetheless. He reawoke and found that his wedding band to Fina was gone, and with it, his very purpose._

"I _cannot_ believe the dribble spilling from your lips, Artorias. Fina is _not_ married, for one. And what is this talk about a curse of undeath?"

"I do not know what to tell you, Ciaran. I doubt any of the townspeople who told me this tale have ever pilgrimed to Anor Londo to learn the truth."

"Hmmf. I just find all of this talk about the gods forsaking people to be… unsettling. Who would be so cruel as to curse people with undeath?"

"Lord Gwyn shares with us only the secrets he feels we must know, Ciaran."

"Oh, well _that_ is reassuring, Ornstein."

* * *

_Without his rings, the legend was heartbroken, but his resolve shined through greater than ever. He trudged through the woods, across deserts, overtop mountains, weighed down all the while by the weakness and fatigue wrought by the loss of his beloved rings. He went on a rampage, demanding about the whereabouts of his rings to all who were unfortunate enough to meet his blade._

"Tch. Imagine being so married to a ring and not to the one whom it represents."

"No — pay attention, my friend. It is the ring which will _lead_ him to his love."

"Where is Nehma coming to save her love, Raime? This relationship to me seems very one-sided."

"Okay, I see your grievance, Velstadt. The notion that any relationship could be imperfect must be too nuanced for you. Let me see if I can conjure a different story more resembling the marriage of the King and Queen of Drangleic…"

"You patronize me, but that is exactly what I want."

* * *

_But alas, after centuries of searching, the Father of Giants had come no closer to finding his precious rings, which bound him to this path of love. No, this once-noble warrior went mad! His mask, twisted forever in a gasp of agony, reflected his soul on the inside! Foe and innocent alike had to flee from his wrath, for he searched endlessly for the proofs of his devotion to his goddess, driven solely by the thought that_ someone _must have them!_

"Uncle Gael… this doesn't look to be a happy story."

"Hmm? Oh, hahah. I am sorry to say that this story is not the happiest. But it does teach valuable lessons, like to beware the guidance of your masters. Even those who claim to work in your best interest."

"...Does it… get better?"

"Oh it does, my dear. This was one of your mother's favorites, after all."

* * *

_Until the day arrived that there was no one else to fight. He had strayed so far from the path that he had lost it altogether. Driven low into the mud, devoid of hope, the Giant Father's mind teetered on the precipice of oblivion, of losing all grip on the true world around him and drifting off to wherever a Hollow's mind goes…_

"...Horace? What's wrong?"

"..."

"Oh… my face? Heh heh. I do look like a corpse, that is for sure. But I have died only once and am in full possession of all my faculties. And you, you haven't died at all!"

"..."

"But I hear your worries… Just remember what the Firekeeper said. So long as we remain driven and full of hope, the end will never come for us."

"..."

"...Oh! That means a lot, Horace…"

* * *

_But the light was within him the entire time._

_In his final scream of agony, as his fingers loosened their grip on the very world around him, a brilliant piercing light escaped. The Goddess Fina stood before him, tall, ethereal, illustrious. Her perfect face was filled with pride and love and adoration. She said that her love's greatest trial had been passed, and that together they would live in an eternal harmonious bliss…_

"Who wrote this story?"

"Mmm… This is an oral tradition. Finding the author is quite impossible."

"I respect your devotion to our cause, dear Yoel, but spreading propaganda of the gods is in poor taste. Poor propaganda at that."

"Oh, but lady Yuria, this is anything but propaganda."

_For you see, when faced with the illustrious goddess Fina, whispering promises of paradise, the Father looked deep within his love-addled mind, and made a decision._

* * *

"What? He gave up an eternal life with the goddess _Fina?"_

"Why, yes — he forsook everything on the spot, and struck at her with his sword. She vanished, a mere teasing illusion, but the Legend had made up his mind in either case. To no woman or man would he be a slave. No, he would seek the greatest warriors of the land, and slay them, to keep himself alive, even as a humanity-suckling Darkwraith, at any cost. And indeed he became the most illustrious Darkwraith there ever was! One who wore the armor of gods, no less!"

"...So how did you get that mask?"

"Oh, well he Hollowed in the Tomb of Giants, love, where else? Found this on a body still as death. A little moist, but otherwise in perfect condition! Since we're friends, I was thinking that I could sell this to you for a measly… eight thousand souls?"

"Doesn't the tale end saying that the 'Legend never dies'?"

"Maybe how you've heard it. I've always heard it as 'and then the Legend died'. So what do you say, eight thousand souls?"

"You stole that mask off of the necromancer I killed."

"What? No, I— fine. Six thousand souls."

"...That will work."

"Pleasure doing business, my friend! And remember, you can always count on Trusty Patches for a fine deal!"

**Author's Note:**

> I feel as if by writing about Giantdad I have broken some unspoken rule...  
> (Criticism welcome as always!)


End file.
